The End
by written-lives
Summary: Ali has no reason to live. She is done with this world and is ready to escape. She has no idea that Keith, a young vampire, will do anything to keep this beautiful girl alive. Can he save her from herself?
1. The End

The End

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"Because I could not stop for Death  
He kindly stopped for me  
The Carriage held but just Ourselves  
And Immortality."- Emily Dickinson

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The sun beat down on my delicate frame. I wrapped my thin arms around my frail body and sighed. I closed my eyes, brushing my long lashes down on my cheeks. The sun kissed my face, embracing every inch of exposed skin. I took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shudder. A single tear slipped down my face.

'Not this again' I thought, trying to avoid the creeping depression.

I was sitting in my sunny backyard. As usual, I was home alone. Most of my summer days were spent alone, drowning in inescapable loneliness. Strangely, the loneliness only increased when my mother came home, angry and prepared to take her days troubles out on me. Mother. The thought of her filled my eyes with even more tears; anger brought these ones on, not sadness. My thin fingers curled into angry fists, my long nails digging into my tender palms. My body started shaking and I gave in. I began rocking in tremors as I collapsed on the ground. Sobs erupted from my throat as tears streaked over the bridge of my nose, the sideways gravity from lying on the ground causing them to puddle on the ground next to my right eye.

My long brown hair sprawled randomly out on the grass, my beachy waves thrown in different directions around my head. I couldn't escape this; I had been living this way for too long. I lay this way unaware of the passing minutes, or was it hours? It made no difference to me, sobbing on the soft grass, blanketed by the suns warmth.

"I don't want to live like this anymore" I said out loud, knowing no one would hear me. My house was at the end of my street, 2 sides were surrounded by lush forest. I rolled over on my back, my sobs had stopped but relentless tears still streamed steadily from the corners of my eyes. I slowly ran my hand along my rib cage, wincing as I brushed my fingers along the bruises. The deep green and purple bruises were scattered along my side, some from being pushed down the stairs, some from just being hit. The memories from last night made me wince.

'Don't the neighbors here me scream?' I thought 'Or do they, but they just don't care.'

The second option seemed more likely. No one cared about me. My mother hated me and beat me, my father left before I was born. I don't blame him, I never had. He found a easy escape from my mother, I wasn't as lucky.

I rested my hand on my chest, careful to avoid the tender bruises. I could feel my protruding ribcage and sighed. I was anorexic. I knew I was slowly starving to death, but that didn't bother me. I hated life, but it hated me more. Every day I lay in bed, not wanting to get up and face the world. I am alone in this world. I am a ticking time bomb, slowly self destructing. It was not that I was ugly. I had proportioned features, turquoise eyes framed with thick lashes, clear skin and I was the farthest thing from fat. Of course none of that matters. Who cares how you look if you have no reason to live?

I was accepted by the other girls at school only for my looks. They only pretended to like me, and easily accepted the fact that I never showed up at their various parties. I was too busy at home, hiding in the corner of my bedroom, crying and rubbing new gashes and marks caused my mother. They didn't care if I was alive; they just wanted me as an addition to their group. I mainly kept to my silence at school, drifting in their shadows, happy to not raise many questions. They didn't try to contact me on our summer break. I no longer had the escape of school.

My life was surrounded by a black cloud, filling my mind with hopelessness and always causing the worst things that could happen. I hated myself, my mother and my life. I hadn't been truly happy in years. As a child my mother had always left me at home, chasing after the men with the fattest wallets, striking me when she didn't get the money she wanted. I was always alone, a horrible childhood that led to an even worse adolescence.

I lifted my eyelids and gazed into the blinding light of the sun above. It seemed like the world had stopped to allow me to think. My breathing had become more regular, my cheeks still wet with my salty tears. The painful feeling of being hollow and empty returned, as if I was being slowly eaten from the inside. I had no where to go, no where to run to escape this life. I needed to escape, to be free of this, anything would be better then to continue like this.

Suddenly my mind became effortlessly clear. The answer. I stood up abruptly, swaying on my feet at the sudden movement. The grass felt spongy and fresh under my bare feet as I walked across it and into the house. I slid open the door and stepped into the chilled interior. I didn't look around as I made my way to the main bathroom; I had my mind set so strongly that it was focused on my goal. I padded to the main bathroom and turned. I walked in and flicked on the lights. I looked in the mirror before I opened it to reveal the medicine cabinet. My hair was messy and out of place, but that was the last thing I was worried about now. I wasn't wearing any make up because I wasn't planning on leaving the house today. My eyes were red rimmed, my cheeks still glistening from salt tears.

I inhaled deeply as I swung open the mirrored cabinet door and saw what I was looking for. The little orange pill bottles were lined up, labels facing forward. Blindly I grabbed 3 bottles, knowing that they would do the job. I walked out of the house and back out into the welcoming summer's air, leaving all the doors ajar, some one would close them eventually. The tears were back, soundlessly falling off my cheeks. I settled back down on the grass, feeling everything around me for the last time. With trembling hands I started popping off the lids of the bottles, dumping a third of the contents of each into my palm. I was ready. I was so unhappy with my life, I had no friends that would miss me too much, my mother would be mad she didn't have a punching bag anymore and I would finally be free. It was my only escape. I didn't know what to expect after I died, but I knew whatever it was it would be bliss to escape this life.

I tipped back my head.

"Good-bye" I whispered.

I dumped all the pills from my hand into my mouth.

"NO" A angry unexpected voice sounded behind me. I heard a branch snap sharply in the distance.


	2. Awake

AWAKE

"A man may be born, but in order to be born he must first die, and in order to die he must first awake." - Carl Sandburg

I was floating. My head, my arms, my torso, all of it was unattached. I was flying through the thick air, my eyes sealed shut.

'So this is death' I thought. I felt no pain, only a slight tingling numbness. I couldn't open my eyes. 'Maybe there's nothing to see' My mind pondered. I was free, but shouldn't it feel better then this? Maybe this was it; maybe this was all that was there for me now, a blank clear nothing for me to float in. At leased mother was gone, at leased I had no more pain to deal with.

I floated like this for a while, not sure how long but not caring. I wasn't happy, but I was content. My mind was starting to go blank, leaving me to rest and have no worries. I rolled my head to the side and relaxed, 'What will mother do now?' My retreating mind thought, 'No one left for her to hurt'

I twitched suddenly, breaking me from my peaceful thoughts. I couldn't come up with a conclusion as to why my body would do such a thing. It happened again and again, each time growing more violent. 'Something's not right!' My thoughts screamed at my skull.

I was shaking now, my mind pulling up through a thick haze.

The peace was gone, instead of flying I was sinking, falling fast. The body I thought I didn't have before was defiantly there, proving its presence by convulsing and shivering. 'No! No this isn't right!' Had I ended up in hell? I couldn't think of anything overly sinful I had ever done. Maybe it was the actions of my mother, for being raised in an environment of sins that had lead me down this doomed path.

The numbness has subsided throughout my body, it had been replaced by a string of constant tremors and the feeling of a thousand tiny prickles. I was still falling. Instead of into darkness like I had expected, I was descending into a pit of light, blinding and warm. This death wasn't what I had expected, I broke out in a sweat, I tried to swallow but couldn't. The haze was so thick, I was drowning in it. I flailed and tried to breath but I couldn't. 'PLEASE!' My mind shrieked, 'PLEASE TAKE ME BACK UNDER!' I longed for the numbness, the ability to have no feeling. This is not the death I had wanted, my escape had become a prison, holding on and refusing to release me.

I fell faster now, my arms and legs unable to move. The falling sensation stopped, I had hit the bottom. Suddenly I surfaced, fast and abruptly. It was like lifting my head up from being submerged in water. My eyes flew open and I was still in my backyard.

Alive.

"No!" I said, my voice escaping in a whisper. It hadn't worked, I hadn't died. I was shaking, my whole form vibrating. My eyes were unfocused, unable to fully take in my surroundings. I was covered in a cold sweat, yet I felt as though I had no body heat left. I felt like I was drenched in an ice bath, chilled to the bone. I convulsed again and my eyes drifted closed. I could not reopen them as I felt the bile rise in my throat or as I turned my head and heaved. My body became limp after I vomited, I felt like dead weight, only I had lived.

Something cold brushed across my forehead, I paid little notice to it. My thoughts were slow and confused my mind too thick to process everything at once. I let the creeping blanket of unconsciousness take me under.

Just as I was about to allow myself to be taken completely under I heard a strangely familiar voice.

"God damn it Ali stay with me! Not now! Ali!" The voice was the same I had heard earlier. I felt my lips twist into a frail smile before I blacked out.


	3. Alive

Alive

"Never take life too seriously; after all, no one gets out of it **alive**"- Anonymous

I woke up slowly, dazed and confused. My head was in a thick fog, nothing made any sense.

Where am I? What happened?

Slowly the haze cleared in my head, and an ache engulfed me entirely. Every part of me hurt, I burned as if I had a horrible fever. My eyes slowly opened, unwilling to the sunlight. As soon as I caught a glimpse of where I was, It all made sense. I gasped and clutched at myself, curling up into a ball. Everything that had happened was ripping through my mind, tearing at me with sharp edges. The pills, dieing, coming back, the voice, living.

Living. I was alive.

The realization made me furious and caused me even more pain. I had not wanted to be part of this life anymore, what had caused me to return? I trembled, my whole body shook.

"Ali?" A slow careful voice sounded above me. I didn't open my eyes, It was the same male voice from before.

"Ali, are you awake?" The man spoke again. I though about this, who would be here? Who would care to watch me curled up in the fetal position defeated? I decided that It was a figment of my insane mind, it must be fried after what I had done to it. I lurched forward and held my legs to my body tighter, I felt so alone, no wonder my insane mind would try to conjure up some one so I would thing I wasn't alone. How cruel, to try to convince me that some one actually cared, only to have nothing to see if I checked.

"Ali?" The voice changed, it showed concern. "Ali? ...Shit! Ali?" The man seemed close to hysteria.

Why? I thought. Why are you doing this to me? I know no one loves me! Stop it! Stop making it worse! I cursed my lying mind, my failed death attempt, and myself. My eyes squeezed tighter, as if I could just disappear off this earth, escape all the pain.

"Ali…? If you can hear me, I'm going to carry you inside. Is that alright?" The voice was masked again, hiding its false worry.

Ha! I mocked my brain. It couldn't make me imagine being lifted. The voice found no response and silenced. I waited, hearing nothing but a light breeze weaving through the forest and my own pained breathing. I felt like I was caving in on myself, as if I could do nothing but suffer the endless pain of hopelessness. No tears came, that almost made it worse. I just lay there, shaking and feeling myself fall apart.

My skin burned, it was strange against the coldness I felt like I should be feeling. The cold empty feeling was only internal; externally it felt like I was burning up. My body ached, the constant trembling only enhancing the aching in spasms.

Suddenly my skin cooled slightly on the small of my back and under my legs. I was suspended into the air suddenly, slowly. At first I thought I was imagining it, but then I felt the air moving above me, I felt the stead raise and fall of a chest beside my head. The voice was real.

I could not bring myself to open my eyes, not wanting to ruin the illusion. I knew I was imagining it, that the pills had really done some damage and this was all a too realistic fantasy, but part of me thought didn't want to prove myself right.

The atmosphere changed, I was no longer outside. I could hear the low hum of the air conditioner and smell the stale indoor air. My head rolled to one side, leaning against my imaginary man's chest. My forehead was instantly cooled once it came in contact with the hard chest. I felt him draw in a sharp breath, then felt the air around me move faster, a more urgent feel to the movements.

I was lowered slowly, laid down gently on a bed. The familiar sent of my room filled my nose. Shouldn't it of taken more time to get up here? I didn't care, nothing mattered anymore. The cool relief was removed once I was on the bed; my body was again burning although I couldn't stop shaking.

My breathing became more raged, everything came at me at once. I knew I would have to live in this inescapable pain, my mother would continue to make me hate my existence, I would always be trapped here. I was devastated, lonely, enraged, defeated, depressed and a thousand other emotions filled me. I couldn't hold it all in at once. I convolved and leaned my head over the edge of the bed. My body shook in more violent tremors as I vomited over the edge.

I didn't try to move. I just stayed there; unmoving except for the constant shaking that seemed unceasing. My head hung over the edge, my neck hurt from this but I didn't care, I didn't care about anything but ending all the pain.

"Stupid!" The false voice whispered to itself, "I'm so stupid! If only I had realized faster, uhg! What if it's too late? No, no, it's not too late for her. It can't be. Ali? Please if you can hear me respond."

Careful hands slid under my head and moved it onto a pillow. I heard movements beside me but didn't bother to investigate. I was willing to lie here for as long as it took for the life to drain out of me. It wasn't as fast as I would like it, and it would probably involve my mother coming in and beating me. I didn't want to be laying here; I wanted to be anywhere but here. I would trade anything for the white blankness from before. I felt one tear slide off my face and onto the pillow.

"Ali! Ali? What's wrong?" The voice was beside me now, close and soft.

"I'm alive." I responded, my voice barley a whisper.

I opened my eyes and say a crimson pair staring back at me.


End file.
